


He Likes to Watch

by The_Fictionist_Aura



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dirty Talk, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hemp, Humiliation, Kink, Masturbation, POV Petyr Baelish, Plot Twist, Rivalry, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 08:23:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12295206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fictionist_Aura/pseuds/The_Fictionist_Aura
Summary: The Hound and a Dornish women visit Littlefinger's brothel one night and Baelish is shocked when he spies on them and their four whores."'Sorry to interrupt but we’ve got a situation.'  She was a blonde, the assistant of Olyvar, and her eyes were cautiously looking into the still open peering hole.  Peytr slowly resealed the hole with the usual tuff of cloth before starting the walk back to his room.  He didn’t walk for her and was not surprised as she caught up with his long strides.'How much of a situation?'There were not that many situations in King’s Landing.  Rich old men were predictable and young rich men just as well.  The strangest request around here were the occasional ropes and whips. And the King’s requests of course.'The Hound is here.'  She replied, looking down at the ground as they walked.They had reached his room and Petyr angrily inhaled.  'You interrupted because the Hound is here?'  He doubted the dog had much gold and didn’t see the reason for a personal greeting for the customer.'No because the girls...they’re scared.'"Post 03x06. Baelish POV. Eventual hemp use.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Post 03X06. I just binge watched Game of Thrones in 5 days and have become most obsessed with the characters in the story - especially the subtle competition between Baelish and Varyas. But yeah...this is a thing. Almost a crack-fic. In this, The Hound is still in King’s Landing in S3 for magical reasons. Spoilers will be spoilers.

He lightly flicked the edge of his collar with his index finger.  The moans of whores filled the air around him, mixed in guttural grunts and the clicking of jewelry from all the sexes.  The almost blood red walls surrounded him.  Once jarring when he had first set up the establishment, they were now dull and musky.  The collar he wore was worth more than the full cost of a kingsguard armor  - a price he had made sure to exceed since he did, in fact, know the exact number.  He had a young, reckless king to commit treason acts behind.

 

And he was bored.

 

Terribly bored.

 

Petyr didn’t have hobbies, or known want for many things.  To display what he liked was weakness.  Something that can become a tool for others.  So there he would usually sit, surrounded by the crown’s numbers and whores in training.  The smell of stale semen would float in the air as he did paces but nothing of this kind shook him.  No, it would be only around this time, a cool one in the morning when some climaxes were at their ends, some talking may had started, some whispers perhaps.  This is when he took time to indulge.  

 

He started from the far side of the building, making a show to walking through so his girls would have time to gather their wits.  And then he start his watching.  Every room had two peering holes along the walls.  For quality assurance and for hearing whispers, as most of the employees of his brothel knew.  But only one knew of the occasional pleasure from it.  And Ros was dead with six arrows in her.

 

What could he say.   _ He liked to watch.   _

 

Mostly men and women but the even rarer women to whore occasion in King’s Landing, also did wonders.  

 

A seventy something year old lord was taking a small, four foot raven haired girl from the floor when the approaching whore had the decency of cough loudly from behind him.  He removed his clenched hand from his shaft and took a sharp breath in.  Only thinking the lord was irritated with the interruption instead of the lack of release, she did a brief clumsy bow to please him.  It didn’t work though he pretended that it had.

 

“Sorry to interrupt but we’ve got a situation.”  She was a blonde, the assistant of Olyvar, and her eyes were cautiously looking into the still open peering hole.  Peytr slowly resealed the hole with the usual tuff of cloth before starting the walk back to his room.  He didn’t walk for her and was not surprised as she caught up with his long strides.  

 

“How much of a situation?”

 

There were not that many situations in King’s Landing.  Rich old men were predictable and young rich men just as well.  The strangest request around here were the occasional ropes and whips. And the King’s requests of course.  

 

“The Hound is here.”  She replied, looking down at the ground as they walked.

 

They had reached his room and Petyr angrily inhaled.  “You interrupted because the Hound is here?”  He doubted the dog had much gold and didn’t see the reason for a personal greeting for the customer.  

 

“No because the girls...they’re scared.”

 

Baelish pinched his nose bridge, his eyes turning to the idiot woman’.  “Tell them to do their job, then.”

 

“I have.  Strange but some value their body in intact compared to their jobs.  Please just give him a greeting or something to relax the girls in some sense.  I’ve got two cowering in the kitchen at this point.”

 

He didn’t ask why she herself couldn’t take him because she was already booked in the Red Keep in twenty.  He didn’t think the Hound would just settle for twenty.  

 

He nodded once to her and she started toward the front of the brothel. He noticed that some girls walking deeper into the back rooms paused as they paused.  Their eyes, black, blue, green, hazel all had the same quality of fear in them when he looked into them.  

 

The pair passed through the final doorway to the main room and Petyr was immediately struck by the smell of the Hound.  Dried blood, piss and the faintness of perfumes that was associated with staying the Red Keep from long periods of time.  The towering man’s back was to him, the handing blade of this sword shining in the darkened room.  Olyvar, his new second in command, was off to the side, speaking confidently despite the tone of worry in his voice.  Towards the back of the room, there was another client in pale orange dress picking women but the Hound seemed to be the center of attention.

 

“If you prefer more curvy, I am happy to find you a more suitable match.”

 

Olyvar took another breath to spew more reassuring tones but Petyr interrupted him.  

 

“Sandor Clegane.”  

 

At the sound of the new voice, the Hound’s hand fell from groping the breast of the whore in front of him to turn and face Baelish.

 

“Wow.  Didn’t think I would get the royal treatment.”  The soldier’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Nonsense.  Any servant of the King is welcomed here with open arms.”  Baelish’s voice was so schooled that it almost didn’t sound patronizing.  He clasped his hands under his chin and smirked at the half melted frown the other man had plastered to his face.  “How can we serve you, Clegane?”  

 

“You got any short ones?”

 

“I do believe that Eve and Lehna would be suitable for you.  They can also get into belts and paddles, if it pleases you.”  Eve, a shorter brunette, stepped out of the circle and slowly walked toward Baelish.  While her hips swayed almost violently as she walked, Petyr could easily read the annoyance in her body language. There was a shuffle out of the corner of his eye and he turned to see Lehna walk away from the other client, having heard her name.  And the client followed her.  

 

The client was an average height woman of Dorne.  The pale orange that Petyr had seen earlier had focused to reveal a corseted dress with very visible tanned breasts on display.  Her hair was pulled back in some sort of bun of black tresses and she hand onto a coin purse hanging from her hip.  Her breasts were average and her hips almost non-existent but she was slim.   _ Not one that really seemed to need a whore. _

 

She was pouting, looking between the Hound and Baelish.  

 

“I thought I got that one.”  

 

_ This night is just getting more and more testing, _ Petyr couldn’t help thinking.  

 

“I do so apologize for the intrusion.  I’m sure we can find you another suitable girl, I promise.”  He bowed slightly towards the apparent noblewoman.  He had no idea where she was from but he didn’t care.  She at least would have more gold than the Hound.  

 

Her hands grasped her hips as she came more forward.  Her eyes, however, were looking at the Hound up and down.  A clear sign of inspection.  

 

“Do I look like I’m on sale to you, cunt?”

 

His roar of an insult did not phase the Dorne woman, though Petyr was not surprised.  Dornish women were another breed entirely.  

 

“No.  Which is why I like you.”  She simply replied before pointing at the armored man’s own coin purse.  “How much would I need to offer to join you?”

 

“Not interested in joining.”  He gruffly responded.  

 

_ Idiot.   _

 

“Fine.  I’ll pay for two whores for you, two for me, same room.”  Olyvar had long since been trained to keep his face neutral through such odd requests but his blonde assistant needed some work.  From the corner of his right eye, Petyr could see her mouth wide open in shock.  Quickly, his left boot stepped over her bare left toes and the blonde’s mouth shut. 

 

The dog’s head tilted a little and there was a pause.  It seemed as if he was deciding whether or not to kill the foreigner.   

 

She winked and it was then that the Lord decided the Dornish woman was slightly unhinged.  “I promise not to touch unless you want me to.”

 

“Different beds?”

 

This, the Hound directed towards the establishment’s keeper.  Petyr nodded.

 

“We do have a room with two beds.” He gave the blonde assistant a look and she immediately left the room in preparation.  

 

“Then it’s done?” The woman asked, stepping closer to the Hound.  Her nose seemed not to be offended by the stench.  

 

“I want ale before.” 

 

“Done.”  She turned back to Baelish and smiled.   Her teeth shined a little too much; most likely fake.  “Could we also get a bath in the room?  Oh and a fire and ashtray.”  

 

From her demeanor alone, he knew better than attempt to name the price of any of these request.  It seemed regardless she would pay.  

 

“It would be my pleasure,” he said instead of what he really wanted to say which was the simple question of  _ why. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I'm doing this but it's happening. I have a certain ending for this in mind but don't think it could fit in a one shot. Any comments or critics are welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

A good hour or so ago, the room had been thoroughly cleaned and perfumed, more for the aftermath of the Hound’s smell rather than the previous occupant.  Olyvar had managed the rest of the requests and the lord of the brothel was once again free to do his nightly walk of the holes, as he liked to call it in his mind.  Olyvar was still under the impression the walk was mainly for information but still made sure the whores kept away from him during his already interrupted walk.  Looking through the hole he was stopped at, it no longer had the seventy year old but a fifteen year old watching the same girl from earlier play with herself on the bed.  The moans were a little too high pitched for his taste.   _ But it would have to do.  _

 

He watched as her fingers circled furiously around her clit.  Dry as a desert, it looked almost like a bowl of meat being stirred.  At that moment, it seemed as if she read his thoughts as she brought her fingers to her mouth to wet and then back to her clit.  More circles.  

 

_ Bored. _

 

Petyr closed the hole with cloth again.  In the distance, he could made out the sound of a bucket of water being poured.  Amongst the mews and flesh and flesh smacking, it sounded like a pure sound.  It didn’t belong.  

 

He followed the sound to the room he had long figured it came from.  The two bed room currently occupied by a deranged Dornish woman and the smelly mountain’s brother.  From the sound, there had been four buckets of water being dumped somewhere.  By the time he had reached the right wall with the peering hole, the sound had stopped.  There was simply the almost innocent sound of bath water splashing.  And a women’s voice.  Coaxing. 

 

“When I put it on your mouth, just inhale but hold it in your mouth, not your lungs.  Then exhale.  You’ll probably get a coughing fit for a bit.”  When he opened the peering hole, he noticed the bath in between the two beds covered in red cloth.  The Hound’s large head was a good foot above the water and his knees was upright, not able to fit in the normal sized bath.  Eve was in the bath, in between his head and knees, moving up and down underwater as Lehna stood behind him outside the bath.  Her hands were deep under the wet and thinning locks of hair on the man’s head.  He couldn’t hear what she was saying over Eve’s moans.  He frowned slightly;  _ Eve needed more lessons _ .  He made a mental note in the back of his mind. 

 

Farther into the room, Petyr could see the Dornish woman sitting on her knees in her bed.  One girl had her arms wrapped around her from behind, looking like a second head.  The other girl was being somewhat cradled against her breast.  They were blurred by a cloud of smoke.  A small light in the cloud appeared as the client pushed a small lighted roll in her mouth and she exhaled.   

 

There was a fit of coughing and the strong smell of something like skunk spray.  The smell was familiar however.  He knew of a lord that loved it dearly and always left the brothel with red eyes and a fit of giggles.  

 

“There, there,” the woman rubbed the coughing whore’s back, her chin resting on top of her head as she did so.  “First time is always rough.  And then great.”  She laughed at that and the one behind her joined in the laughter.  A decent, fake giggle.

 

“Get me some ale, woman,” the Hound snapped at the woman as the back of his head and the peering eye refocused on the bath. 

 

“Yes, master,” she breathed, feet padding off to a corner of the room Petyr couldn’t see.  His eyebrow rose at the title name.  He supposed even the ugly had kinks.  

 

“You, get out.” Eve stopped her motions immediately and climbed out of the tub.  She was soaking wet, and forming a sizable puddle on the floor.  Her face was covered from his view from her curtain of wet hair but whatever the expression was seemed to satisfy the Hound.  “Go breathe another,” he head jerked towards the bed with the three other women.  With that, the dog himself rose from the bed, his arm veins pulsing at the effort.  He was naked of course, his almost erect penis looking just as threatening as Littlefinger had always imagined.  It was terribly dark from lack of sun, almost as dark and tan as the Dornish woman’s hair.  The rest of his body was just huge but paler, and covered in now wet hair.  

 

“Feel better?” The woman asked.  

 

He grunted in reply and stepped out of the bath.  His back facing him, Petyr had a largely unpleasant view of his bare ass and scarred back.   _ So much hair.    _

 

“Barely, witch.” There must have been a look exchanged that Baelish couldn’t see because there was a pregnant pause before the Hound spoke again.  “What, you think I’m lying?”

 

Lehna appeared in frame again to head the tall man a cup and to pull the bath to the side of the room.  From the hole, the lord couldn’t get a proper view of her eyes but he suspected them to be bloodshot.  There was more coughing and he could barely see Eve’s head bopping in pain over the soldier's huge shoulder. 

 

“Your pride is laughable at best.”  

 

The sheets rustled and soon the woman’s head appeared almost at head level with the Hound.  “You know,” she was smiling that smile that was almost too open and still, “you would make so much more in Dorne at houses like this.”  A small light appeared and she inhaled from the even smaller roll.  Her exhaling puffed smoke directly in the Hound’s face. He didn’t so much as flinch.  “More than whatever this Crown here is paying you - or whatever it is they do here in this god awful place.”

 

He downed the cup in his left hand and dropped it on the floor.  ““I’d rather kill people, to be honest.”  The casual tone was meant to threaten but the woman just shrugged.  

 

“You can do that too in Dorne.  You can do that anywhere really,” she waved to that one corner of the room and :Lehna appeared again, looking to be climbing on the bed.  

 

“You know anyone hiring?”  The Hound turned to sit down on the bed behind him.  His back was still to the peering hole but the right arm that was visible appeared to be pulling at something below his belt.  Petyr grimaced.  By the time he looked back at the bed now full of five women, the Dorne had lowered herself back down into the cushions and was pushing Lehna face up below her.  

 

“I am,” she said conversationally, despite her new position straddling the girl.  She began undoing the ties on the back of her dress but the Hound breathed the words, “leave it”.  

 

“Let me guess, it’s called Mariya’s House of Mischief and all the poor cuntrags that come every night are sad old men and fucks like me.  They just like dick instead.”  

 

The now named Mariya didn’t answer right away.  She did look towards Eve and bopped her head.  The paid woman left the bed to join the Hound.  He roughly pulled her down to the ground below him and the usual slurping noises began.  

 

“It’s Mari actually but close enough,” Mari said instead.  Turning to the woman under her, she whispered something in her ear before inhaling another puff from the roll.  She lowered her head almost to the point of a kiss before exhaling.  Littlefinger’s girl gulped down the smoke, somewhat haphazardly but with gusto.  “And I would give you women, I’m not that cruel.”  She turned to face the sitting Hound.  Her eyes lowered, staring as Eve supposedly sucked him off.  Petyr was grateful for his lack of visual.  “And I promise Dorne women are not nearly as soft as the ones here.”  

 

Mari climbed off the now thoroughly not somber woman and leaned back into the two others waiting further in the bed.  

 

“If you don’t like it, you can kill people for other people.  Seem like win win to me.”  Four different hands roamed the orange cloth on her body but her speech stayed steady.  Her hand eventually snaked around to pull a head of hair towards her mouth and for a while, there was silence besides the sound of mouths on mouths and the Hound’s low grunts. 

 

Despite himself, Petyr’s body froze in surprise as he felt a warmth in his groin.  Paranoid, he pulled his head from the hole and glanced around.   _ No one.   _

A grunt.  

 

“So you came here to recruit?”  The Hound’s breathing was ragged, clearly trying to hold on for longer. 

 

“Yes.  Right under that idiot Baelish’s nose,” Petyr’s hand found its way past the first layer of his cloak and were now fiddling with the string around his waist.  His eyes were closed for once, and all he do was listen.  His girls were moaning up a storm but he was focused Mari’s words.  “He thinks he’s so smart with all his fake smiles, his sparse goatee, his slimy wrinkled face.”

 

There was shuffling in the room. His string was undone and his hand was grasping and pulling on his manhood.  

 

“I just want to take his nose and bury it in my cunt and watch him struggle to breath.  Like the piece of shit he is,”  there was a strange ripping sound of cloth and a gasp that seemed to come from the other whorehouse owner.  His hand was covered in his own fluids at this point and his other hand helped bury his face in his elbow as he leaned against the wall.  Listening. 

 

“I bet his dick is so small I wouldn’t feel it,” her breath took hits with the rhythm with a pounding fleshy sound.  “Yes, Sandor, yes.”  This was said lower but Baelish could still hear it.  There was no reply from the Clegane but the hits became faster and more pinched breathing resulted.  Petyr’s own breathing was worse as he neared climax, having no reason to hold back and more rooms to see after this one.  

 

“Mmm, yes. I bet.”  In the far back of his mind, Petyr wondered where the hell the four girls were in the room and what did it look like in there but he kept his eyes shut.   _ It’s rare this happens.   _ The pressure had turned the inside of his eyelids red but he continued pumping his penis with his free hand all the same.  He pictured a head of red hair between his legs instead and a swirling tongue.  

 

“I bet it’s so small - “ the slapping had slowed but Petyr’s hand did the opposite as he began to squirt white against the wall, “So small Sansa wouldn’t feel it in her tight cunt.  So small, it wouldn’t even break her.”

 

Baelish’s eyes flew open just as his cock grew limp and empty.  He shoved his eye back into the peering hole.

 

Mari was naked, a pile of orange cloth on the floor near the bed.  Her breasts bounced with the thrusting underneath her as she rode the Hound.  Not curvy from below, his hands basically covered her own waist but Petyr quickly looked back to her face as she continued speaking.  And when he looked at her face, he saw her looking right at him.  

 

“I bet she’ll be so disgusted by a dirty old man that just wanted her mother’s pussy, she’ll be so dry.  She’ll just fuck him to stay alive, to have a protector.”  She lowered her torso now, breasts hanging in Sandor’s hair but head still facing Petyr.  “I bet he’ll scream out Cat when she fakes it.” 

 

Petyr never knew how much longer the Hound had stayed there fucking her or what other things Mari betted on.  He left, without closing the hole and disappeared into his room.  With his hands shaking in a way he didn’t know was possible, he drank three cups of wine like water.  He kept drinking until he couldn’t.  Until he felt he couldn’t breath so unevenly anymore and until his eyes stopped leaking.

 

The next day when he was noting the gold earned from the night before while nursing  a terrible headache, he received a raven from Varys. 

 

_ I just wanted to thank you for being so hospitable to my friend, Mari from Dorne.  She had nothing but great things to say about your establishment just as I told her she would.  She was so looking forward to meeting your Ros - I told her all about her and how she’s gone missing as of late - but alas Mari was instead disappointed in your new head of affairs.  She said something about the best whore being the Hound.  But either way, I’m so glad she was able to partake and for you to truly see her - she is a thing of beauty and fire I’ve been told.  I’m sure it was glorious for you as well. _

 

_ ~ Varys  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep.....yep this was a thing. This is my first time truly trying to write erotica - I hope I have not failed.


End file.
